


Business Meeting

by FineTevinterWines



Series: Chronicles of Tharnia [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Character Study, Cute Kids, Digital Art, F/M, First Meetings, Illustrations, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 09:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19885219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FineTevinterWines/pseuds/FineTevinterWines
Summary: Vorozhba 'Ro' gra-Gatlok is a priestess of Dibella, and as such, she is sometimes tasked with entertaining certain patrons in exchange for a tithe to her Temple. This time, it is an Imperial Chancellor whose fate will become tied to hers in most unexpected ways.





	Business Meeting

On a warm, cloudless afternoon, when the world beyond the cozy circle of white-walled, dark-roofed houses is a vibrant stained-glass mosaic of pink and lilac sky, and shimmering golden wheat fields, and rippling green vineyards, a tall Orc woman walks into the main (and only) square of a small town, still quiet and untouched by the war that brews on the horizon, with unease just barely beginning to tighten under the drowsy exterior, like a pinched muscle in a resting body.

She moves swiftly, thanks to the sheer length of her broad legs, which peek from under her simple white tunic - muscle swathed into a jiggly cushion, hips swaying with a sweeping rhythm. But she is in no hurry; carrying her head high, as if her bright-red spiky hair were the ruby crown of the Empress herself, she sails through the street with a calm reassurance. Until she stops in the middle of the square, with one hand resting on her ample waist, and looks around, her amber eyes narrowed in concentration.

She is searching for something - but before she can find it, there is a scurrying noise behind her back. A tiny shadow darting from one merchant stall to another; a panting breath; a shuffle of little feet - and a whooshing toss a mud pellet. It was probably meant to mar the pristine whiteness of the fabric; but the Orc catches it tight in her fist, without even turning around. All that it takes is a casual motion of her muscular arm, covered in a swirling net of flower vine tattoos from shoulder to wrist.

‘And hello to you too, little one,’ she says, not unkindly, tilting her head and addressing thin air.

There is more shuffling; then, squeaky whimper; and finally, a little chubby form rolls out of the shadows and curls into a ball at the Orc’s feet, palms and knees pressed into the ground.

'I am sorry, Mistress Orc,’ whispers the child - a round-faced girl with puffed up eyes that are set wide apart, and a broad freckled nose, swollen with tears like a pink-tinged pear. 'You can kick me now. I will make faces while you do that; can you make faces too? It will be funnier this way’.

'Funnier for whom?’ the Orc asks softly, as she squats down next to the shivering, sniffling girl. It does not take long for her question to be answered - by a chorus of snickers from the other end of the square.

'My friends like it when I get in trouble,’ the girl whispers, hiding her face in the dirt. 'It makes them laugh. I try my best to make them laugh’.

'What kind of friends are those?’ the Orc asks.

Her eyes are hard as a blade’s cutting edge now, and her voice is loud enough to be carried across the square. The snickers promptly end.

'My… My only friends,’ the girl looks up at the Orc again; the grime that has smeared all over her round cheeks is streaking even further, carried by her murky tears.

'I am the ugliest kid in town, so they are doing me a favour by being my friends. I have to pay them back every day’.

The Orc makes a low grunting noise - and sweeps the child off the ground into her arms, with a gentleness that is almost uncanny for someone so strongly built.

'You are not ugly, little one,’ she tells her firmly, while setting her to her feet and wiping her face with that very same white tunic.

'Ugliness takes hold of you when you choose to be cruel to others. Like those so-called friends of yours do. I will pray to my Lady…’ she brushes her hand against the delicately carved purple pendant around her neck: the same flower motif as in her tattoos, 'That they come to their senses while they are still young - but you should still stay away from them. Before they hurt you further’.

'But…’ the girl splutters, a little crease appearing between her knitted, thread-thin, sun-bleached eyebrows. 'The grown-ups say you need friends to be happy. How… How can I be happy if I have no friends? And…’

She swallows and blurts out,

'And the grown-ups also say you shouldn’t talk to strangers - and here I am talking to you!’

The Orc shakes her head.

'Child - you have tears in your eyes. Are you truly happy with friends like these? You don’t have to trust a stranger like me - trust what your gut is telling you. What do you want to do with your life - deep down?’

The girl swallows again, and takes a deep breath, wriggling her bare toes so that the dirt trickles through them (which probably helps her concentrate).

'I am good at drawing,’ she declares at length. 'I wanna be an artist - and my papa has an elf friend who can take me as an apprentice and teach me artist things… But I was too scared to agree, because my fr…’

She corrects herself, her little jaw squared.

'Because they said it was stupid. But… But even if it is… It will make me feel better than getting kicked for laughs’.

She freezes in thought again for a moment or so - and arrives to a final resolution with a triumphant, if a bit clogged-up, giggle.

'I am going to tell my papa I am ready to begin learning artist things!’ she cries, turning on her heels and scurrying off to one of the nearest houses. 'Thank you, Mistress Orc!’

'Remember, I am just a stranger,’ the Orc smiles after her. 'You figured it out all by yourself’.

'Well, if it wasn’t a heartwarming little life lesson,’ a man’s voice comments with a slight mocking undertone.

The Orc’s large, leaf-shaped ears twitch, and she looks over her shoulder, eyes travelling up and down the figure that has stepped out from between the market stalls.

He is much shorter than her, this human with a small, pointy silver beard and piercingly sharp light-blue eyes; but there is the same assured calm about him, and when he walks up to the towering Orc, they stand as equals.

She dips her head in recognition as she notices the Imperial diamond, etched into the golden clasp that holds his flowing crimson cloak in place.

'It is the Dibellan devotees’ sworn duty to help people find beauty in the world and their own hearts, Chancellor,’ she says, extending her hand in greeting. 'In more ways than one. Your gold will be put to a good cause, I assure you’.

'I trust that it will’.

Slowly, the Chancellor lifts the Orc’s hand to his lips, and kisses it, a thin smirk spreading over his lined face.

'But I am a busy man, and what I paid for wasn’t a lecture on the goodness of Dibella’.

'No,’ the Orc agrees, allowing her hand to rest in his briefly. 'I noticed that the town has an inn?’

'I went there while waiting for you to inspect the… amenities. The place allows for little privacy, I am afraid,’ the Chancellor responds to her half-question, flinching in distaste. 'Thus I took the liberty of renting a room at one of the little homes scattered in the farmlands. It will be empty until sundown, when the workers come home’.

The Orc shrugs.

'It is your gold. Lead the way’.

'So I shall. But once we arrive…’ his eyes flicker along her honed forearms. 'Leading will fall to you’.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I will continue this, but the gist is that Ro's meeting with Tharn will be interrupted by Worm Cultists, who will drag her off to be killed and robbed of her soul, having mistaken her for a sacrifice to Molag Bal that Tharn obtained to prove his loyalty to Mannimarco. Tharn will feel rather guilty about it (as much as the man is capable of guilt), and will thus look out for Ro once she becomes a Vestige. Their relationship will continue - and, despite everything, they will come to care for one another far more than Dibellan devotee and a run-of-the-mill patron.


End file.
